


Bryce and Buzzardo

by ElegantButler



Series: Tales of Buzzardo [1]
Category: Max Headroom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:32:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegantButler/pseuds/ElegantButler
Summary: This story takes place a year after the events in which Bryce Lynch became Bryce Morven.  Since then, Bryce has become a young vigilante, using his connection with the artificial bird Buzzardo to guide him and aid him in his unending quest.





	1. Connections

CHAPTER 01: Connections 

Buzzardo flew above the city, black, yellow, and white wings outstretched as it swooped over the black van that it was currently tracking. It swooped down to get a closer look, its human operative, Bryce Morven, seeing everything it saw through their cybertelepathic link. 

On his motorcycle, Bryce kept his natural eye on the road while his lo-tech eye registered the images being sent to him by Buzzardo.  
“Any sign of them?” came the voice of his adoptive brother, Dan, over the motorcycle’s communicator.

“Buzzardo’s tracking them now,” Bryce told him. “It looks like they’re heading toward the Highwayman.”

“I’m contacting the Liskeard metros,” Dan said. “Get ready to make yourself scarce. You know how the metros feel about vigilantes.”

After a few moments of silence, Dan came back on the link.

“The metros are on the way. They’ll intercept the bad guys at the Highwayman.”

“I bet Batman never had it this hard,” Bryce remarked as he banked hard around the turn at the corner of Tremabe Lane, the motorcycle leaning dangerously to one side. He corrected the pitch of the bike with little difficulty, and sped off in the opposite direction of Buzzardo, keeping in contact with the artificial Yellowish Imperial as it continued to pursue their prey.

Several months earlier, Bryce had been a normal teenager, albeit it one with an extremely high level of intelligence. Head of Network 23’s Research and Development department, actually the only member of that particular department’s staff, he had been at least partly responsible for Network 23’s success. This had never been more true than when he had started assisting Edison Carter. Reluctantly at first, as he had considered the interruptions a bit annoying. But soon with enthusiasm as the excitement of Edison’s quests began to get to him.

But then he had been hurt in an attack he could not remember. And in the weeks that followed, he was put up for adoption when it was decided that Network 23 had been neglectful of his needs at best and abusive at worst.

Network 23 had been less-than-willing to lose one of their more important employees and had attempted to kidnap him back, resulting in the implantation of a microchip which was later connected to Buzzardo when Jenny and Edison Carter’s team had rescued him.

“You seem more like Spider-Man to me,” Dan remarked, “superhero still in high school and all that.”

“I graduate next month,” Bryce reminded his brother. “And Spider-Man got bitten by radioactive spider and got superpowers. Batman uses gadgets that were created for him.”

“Fair point,” Dan said. “So, shall I set a place at the table for you?”

“Not tonight,” Bryce replied. 

“I see,” Dan replied in a knowing tone. “Well, tell Jake I said hi.”

“I will,” Bryce said.


	2. A Quiet Evening Interrupted

CHAPTER 02: A Quiet Evening Interrupted

Bryce smiled inwardly as he coasted the motorcycle down the side streets near the Fringes where Blank Jake lived.

Jake had been his boyfriend for about four months now. A fact that Bryce thought was rather remarkable given his disfigurement. After all, a lo-tech cybernetic eye wasn’t exactly something a person could ignore like a planter’s wart on the bottom of their lover’s foot.

A cybernetic eye literally stared you right in the face.

But Jake had neither shunned it, nor ignored it.

Bryce remembered the day they’d met. He’d been hunting his current mark, a nasty little scammer who’d been preying on the children of the Fringes, taking advantage of their desperation and illiteracy.

Jake, whose little sister had lost every penny she’d ever saved (in the Fringes most of the Blanks used old-style currency because credit tubes would’ve put them back into the system), had heard of Bryce, who had bagged four miscreants by that time, taking cues from Edison Carter’s old show.

Edison had retired from Network 23 after the same incident that had caused the riots. In fact the former reporter had led the biggest of the revolts along with his former controller Theora Jones.

Bryce put these things out of his mind. Evenings with Jake were not for dwelling on his painful past. They were for other things. Happier things.

Jake’s apartment was in an old and dilapidated warehouse that had been converted into some cheap apartments by a more ambitious Blank. Once marked for demolition it had eventually been forgotten by all but the people who lived nearby.

Although the electrical and plumbing systems had never been repaired, the superstructure had been fortified. So its occupants had to go elsewhere to shower, and there was no comfort against the heat or the cold. Even so, at least they were pretty sure the building wasn’t going to fall down around them.

Bryce parked his motorcycle outside the building. He dismounted and removed his helmet.  
He tousled his hair, since there is nothing worse on a date than arriving with hair that’s been messed up by one’s hat or helmet, and walked into the door without looking back to see if anyone was around who might steal his ride.  
His reputation was such that there was no way anyone with a brain would steal it. Or anyone without one for that matter.

Jake was watching a music video on Big Time when Bryce walked into his living room and plopped down on the sofa beside him.

They exchanged a simple kiss and then turned back to the TV.

“Where’s Amy?” Bryce asked.

“I took your advice and sent her to learn with Blank Orville,” Jake told him. “I watched him for a few minutes before I made up my mind to let her attend his classes. You were right, he is a really good teacher.”

“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of him before,” Bryce remarked. “He’s been around for almost a year. At least that I’m aware of.”

“I had heard of him,” Jake said. “I just thought after seeing that report that he’d been shut down.”

“Nah,” Bryce told him. “He just changed his teaching methods.”

Bryce leaned on Jake, putting his head on the older teen’s shoulder.

“Why do you love me?” he asked.

“Because if I didn’t I would have to love someone else,” Jake explained. “And if I did, then I would be loving the wrong person.”

“You know that makes no logical sense whatsoever,” Bryce scolded playfully.

“Since when have I ever been logical?” Jake asked as they snuggled together and watched the TV.

As he watched some music videos from the late 60s, Bryce’s cybernetic eye lazily watched the city streets above which Buzzardo drifted on the winds.

A familiar van was moving steadily below.

“Breughal’s on the prowl,” Bryce hissed, standing up. “Sorry, Jake. But I have to leave.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Jake said, regretfully. “Come back after you’re finished.

“Amy will be home by then,” Bryce told him. “You should spend some time with her. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.”

Jake smiled.

“Yeah, maybe.” he agreed.


	3. The Highwayman

CHAPTER 03: The Highwayman

The early evening drinking crowd at the Highwayman was keeping the barkeep rather busy when Breughal walked in. 

“Good evening, sir,” The barkeep, known only as John by the patrons said, respectfully.

Breughal gave a curt nod and sat down at a table in the corner.

He would be left alone there. He’d been in the Highwayman enough times for the staff to know not to approach him unless he signaled for service. He could think about his next move, plan what needed to be done. Even in the office he’d taken over from Simon Peller, who Breughal had quickly dispatched, there was no peace or quiet.

Keeping in power against the Networks was easier since the playing field had been leveled. But their politicians still had the coverage he didn’t. He couldn’t kill all of them. That would be bad for his image. One could be easily dismissed as accidental. But all of them? As much fun as it would be, he would have to leave their demise to others.

*****

Buzzardo was circling the Highwayman when Bryce’s motorcycle screeched to the proverbial halt in the carpark.

“Jake, you there?” Bryce asked through his connection.

“Been following you since you left,” Jake replied. “Bringing up an insider on the Highwayman now.” A short pause. “Yeah, he’s in there. Sitting as his usual table. Doesn’t look like he’s ordered anything yet.”

“I’m going in,” Bryce told him. “Keep your eyes open.”

Bryce sent a signal for Buzzardo to land. The bird acknowledged, alighting on the pub’s patio fence where it mimicked the actions of a natural bird; singing, cocking its head, and basically ignoring everyone who passed it.

Bryce stroked the bird’s back briefly, then went inside.

*****

John looked up from wiping down a glass as Bryce walked in. He didn’t like it when Bryce walked in. It always meant trouble. It was well known that Bryce was a vigilante who stalked his prey pretty much wherever he felt like it. It was said that Bryce’s lo-tech eye could see anything, even miles away from where he was. John didn’t believe any of it. His guess was that Bryce had got himself damaged when he picked on the wrong prey. 

“Serves him right,” John muttered as he thought about this again. He waved to Bryce to not pester Breughal.

Bryce shot him a glare that was made all the colder by the lo-tech and then walked to Breughal’s table.

Not waiting for an invitation, Bryce sat across from Breughal.

“You’re being bothersome,” Breughal told him. “I didn’t invite you to…”

“Shut up,” Bryce interrupted. “I’ve had my eye on you for some time. Perhaps even longer than you think. You believe that your position as this area’s top politician gives you the power to just destroy whoever you like. I’m warning you now. You have never been more wrong in your life. I’m not the only one watching you. Others are. Perhaps everyone.”

“So what are you here to offer?” Breughal asked, slyly. “I know your type. Your kind always has some kind of incentive to offer those such as I.”

“All I will offer you is death, Breughal,” Bryce warned.

Before indulging in politics, Breughal had spent most of his adult life as a bodysnatcher, collected dead (and sometimes live) bodies from the Fringes and selling them to the body banks for profit.

“Death I’m used to,” he replied.

John put down the pint glass he’d just filled and went over to Breughal’s table. Looking at Bryce he spoke evenly.

“You’ll have to leave,” he said. “I don’t want a scene and I appreciate my customers being left in peace.”

Bryce rose from the table and turned to look down at Breughal.

“Death.” he said simply as he turned and walked out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 04: Reconnections

As Bryce rode away from the Highwayman, Buzzardo lifted off from its temporary perch on the outside railing. The bird caught up with its master and alit on Bryce’s shoulder, grasping his leather-clad shoulder.

“Jake,” Bryce said on his link, “Get a trace on Edison Carter. I’m going to need some help on this one.”

“Carter? He’s the reason you lost your eye!” Jake said angrily. “Remember? You’ve got a bloody chip in your head that’ll kill you if it malfunctions because of that damned reporter and his fucking Network! You haven’t even spoken to him since then!”

“That was Cheviot’s fault, Jake,” Bryce replied. “Not Edison’s. I’ve begun to realize that lately.”

“I don’t think it’s…”

“Find Carter,” Bryce ordered, in no uncertain terms.

*****

Edison Carter sat in the pedicab while it’s driver, Rik, conveyed him through the Fringes. He was on his way to the ouzo bar to meet with a man who wanted to put an educational show on TV for Blank children which would actually feature some of these children.

Dominique, the owner of Big Time Television, which Edison now worked for, had suggested that Edison approach the man with an offer to air the show on their network.

Edison had left Network 23 following the incident in which his best friend Bryce had been nearly killed and permanently disfigured. He hated the towering skyscraper he had to look at every day. Hated the people who sat in that overly clean room high above the city. So high above it that they were completely detached from it except for the ratings it could bring them.

He hadn’t seen Bryce in all that time. Hadn’t heard from him either. It didn’t surprise him, though. He doubted Bryce wanted anything to do with Network 23. And Bryce didn’t know that he had quit.

*****

“Got him,” Jake told Bryce. “I’m tracking his vidicam. He seems to be heading to Big Time. Odd, his vidicam doesn’t seem to be linked to Network 23.”

“He must’ve left them,” Bryce said, adding with a thoughtful “I wonder if he quit because of me?”

He rode on in silence for several minutes.

“Jake,” he said after giving himself time to think. “Locate Big Time Television and connect me to them.”

“Locating and connecting now,” Jake told him. 

*****

“Hello?” Blank Reg asked, wondering who was calling. There weren’t a lot of people who had his viewphone number. It was untraceable, and it wasn’t in the viewphone registry.

“Reg,” Bryce said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Is Edison around?”

“Blimey Bryce!” Reg exclaimed. “Is that you?”

“Sure is,” Bryce told him.

“Edison’s doing me a favor at the ouzo bar,” Reg told him. “We’re going to broadcast an educational program of our own to the children of the Fringes.”

“Excellent idea,” Bryce told him. “There are some pretty smart Blank kids who can’t afford ACS. Just an idea. If she’s also quit Network 23, you might ask Theora to teach some of them a few computer skills.”

“Why don’t you do it?” Reg asked. “If I’m not mistaken you’re pretty intelligent.”

“Can’t,” Bryce told him. “I’m taking a page out of Edison’s book. Speaking of whom.. I’m heading to the ouzo bar now. Thanks, Reg.”

 

*****

“Blank WIlliam?” Edison asked approaching the table where a nondescript man in a short leather coat sat swirling a small glass of something alcohol-based in his hand.

“Uilliam,” the man corrected him, naturally. Edison suspected he made this correction frequently. “With a U. So tell me, what does Network 23 want with me?”

“I’m no longer with Network 23,” Edison explained. “I parted ways with them a few months ago.” He wondered why his absence hadn’t been noticed. Had the Network been airing reruns without his permission? He wouldn’t be surprised. Nor would it surprise him if none of the viewers had noticed. Hardly anyone watched these days. Only the continuing illegality of off-switches kept the Networks on the air nowadays. “I’m with Big Time now. We want to air your show.”

“Big Time doesn’t get a lot of coverage,” Uilliam told him.

“True,” Edison explained.

“That’s what makes it ideal for airing an educational show to the Blanks,” said Bryce who had arrived unnoticed a few moments earlier. “Since Big Time doesn’t have to answer to a higher authority, they’re free to adjust their educational programs as they see fit.”

Edison whipped his head around at the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in forever.

“Bryce?” he asked in amazement.

“Good to see you again, too, Edison,” Bryce replied.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 05: Old Allies Become New Allies

“I heard a rumor that you’re no longer with Network 23,” Bryce said as he sat down next to Uilliam in the chair across from Edison’s. 

“I’m with Big Time now,” Edison explained. “I’m just here negotiating a show with Uilliam here.”

“What kind of show?” Bryce asked Uilliam.

“An educational program for Blank children,” Uilliam explained.

“Hey, why don’t you do an episode or two?” Edison suggested.

“Can’t,” Bryce apologized. “Doesn’t go with the vigilante lifestyle.”

“Since when did you become a vigilante?” Edison half-demanded.  
“Ever since I found out how useful my connection with Buzzardo here can be.” Bryce replied, petting the bird that still sat on his shoulder.

“I thought that bird was your lifeline,” Edison said in a low tone. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to just let it fly around?”

“I can see through its eyes and control its every move,” Bryce explained. “It’s very helpful when I’m in pursuit.”

“In pursuit of what?” Edison asked.

“Right now? Breughal,” Bryce told him. He turned to Uilliam. “Tell me more about your show. I can’t make appearances, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help in some ways.”

“Oh no,” Edison said, firmly. “You’re not changing the subject just like that!”

“Well,” Uilliam told Bryce. “We want to include some of the Blank children in the series.”

“Sounds good,” Bryce told him. “Perhaps I could talk to the Head Sysop at ACS. See if he would be willing to have some of their students interact with the Blanks for special episodes. I remember MInk being very smart. I would be willing to bet that there are others who are just as intelligent.”

“You’ve done a lot of growing up,” Edison told Bryce proudly. “A year ago you would’ve dismissed the Blanks like so many others.”

“A year ago I hadn’t spent a lot of time working alongside them,” Bryce said. “They’ve helped me out in the past.” He turned to Uilliam, “Put an outline for the show together. Leave a time slot for a cultural and educational exchange between the children of the Fringes and those at ACS. About fifteen minutes should suffice in the beginning. If that segment is popular enough, we’ll increase the time.”

“Sounds good,” Uilliam agreed. “I’ll work that out and meet with you and Carter in a few days.” He turned to Edison. “Is that acceptable?”

Edison nodded as Uilliam arose and departed. “And speaking of Blanks,” he said, turning back to Bryce, “What do you mean you’re going after Breughal? That man was dangerous when he was just a ghoul. Now he has control of the city! You must be mad if you think you can take him on!”

“Breughal is a dangerous man, yes,” Bryce agreed. “That’s why I’m working with a team.”

“What team?” Edison asked as a waitress approached their table.

Bryce waved her off and she went to serve someone else.

“My brother Dan, Blank Lancer, Jenny from Network 66, Jake, and Buzzardo,” Bryce told him. “And you of course.”

“So, you’re saying you trust me after all that’s happened?” Edison asked.

“Yes,” Bryce told him. “And in exchange for helping me, I’ll help you.”

Edison considered for a moment. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me get rid of Breughal,” he said. “For good.”


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 06: A Quick Scene

Outside the ouzo bar, Edison had a look at Bryce’s motorcycle.

It was a Busa. Red and streamlined, it gave the impression of speed even standing still.

“You’re driving this thing?” he asked, rather astonished.

“Yeah,” Bryce told him climbing onto bike and putting on his helmet “Get on!”

“I’m going to regret this,” Edison said, the old verbal tradition falling nervously from his lips as he mounted the bike and put his arms around Bryce’s middle.

As soon as Bryce felt Edison’s arms around him, he rode the motorcycle as a casual pace until he reached the M4. Then he put the hammer down.

“Hey! I don’t have a helmet back here!” Edison shouted through the noisy wind created by the speed of the bike. He gripped Bryce more tightly and tried to think which god was the one that covered riding on the back of a Japanese motorcycle with a teen genius road demon.

“I’ll try to remember that,” Bryce shouted back, not slowing up one bit.

“Thanks!” 

It wasn’t long at the speed Bryce was going to reach the Morven’s house.

“Must you ride that thing so fast?” Mrs. Morven demanded. “Oh! Hello, Mr. Carter. Perhaps you can convince my youngest to go a little slower.”

“Good luck with that,” Dan put in as he came out of the house. “You know he’s a speed demon. Has been ever since he got the damned thing.”

“We can discuss my speed later,” Bryce told them. “Right now Edison and I have things to discuss.”

“Oh no, Mister,” his mother said. “Right now you’re doing your homework. Mr. Carter is welcome to stay for supper. You and he can talk about whatever it is then.”

“I need to talk to him privately,” Bryce explained.

“You are not Batman,” his mother reminded him. “And even if you were, Batman had responsibilities, too.”

“Your mom’s right,” Edison told him. “Don’t worry, I’ll stick around. You don’t mind if I call Theora, do you? She can be here just after supper and the three of us can go over what you’ll need from us.”

“Fine,” Bryce told them. He turned to Edison. “Call Theora. But keep Murray out of this.”

Edison looked at him, somewhat puzzled.

“It’s not that I don’t trust Murray,” Bryce explained.”I just think he’s too … you know… prim for the type of life I lead now..”

Mrs. Morven whispered something in Bryce’s ear.

Bryce headed toward the house. He looked over at Edison as he reached for the knob. “Okay, go ahead and get Murray, too.”

“What did you say to him?” Edison asked.

“Batman had a butler.” Mrs. Morven smiled. “Come inside, you can use the viewphone.”


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 07: Dinner and Dessert

Edison followed Brs. Morven into the house.

“Is your homework done?” she asked Bryce.

“Yes,” Bryce replied.

“Then please set the table,” Mrs. Morven told Bryce who was sitting in front of the TV.. “Supper will be ready soon.”

She smiled warmly at Bryce as he went into the kitchen to get the plates and silverware.

“I wish he’d give up this vigilante business,” she told Edison. “I worry about him every time he goes off on one of his noble quests.” she wagged her fingers when she spoke the last two words.

“That’s my fault,” Edison admitted. “I’m afraid I instilled a sense of duty in him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Mrs. Morven said. “I don’t mind that aspect of it. I just wish he’d do it in a safer way.”

“Like what?” Edison asked.

Mrs. Morven considered. “Lobbying for changes. Holding televised debates. Even running against Breughal in the next tel-election”

“He’s seventeen,” Mr. Morven pointed out as he joined them. “Anyhow, I don’t think he wants to be a politician.”

“Bryce is too honest,” Edison pointed out as Mrs. Morven went into the kitchen.

*****

Theora was sitting down to a light supper when her viewphone rang. She ignored it at first, but decided to answer after a minute of steady ringing.

“Edison, I’m eating,” she told him. “Where are you?”

“At Bryce’s,” Edison replied. “He made contact a couple hours ago.”

“And you’re just telling me now?” Theora exclaimed.

“I wanted to be sure it would be okay with him,” Edison told her.

“How is he?” Theora wanted to know.

“Fine,” Edison replied. “He’d like to see you and Murray, too. We’re just about to have dinner ourselves, but why don’t you come up? Martinez still flying?”

“Yeah,” Theora told him. “He stole the Network helicopter and repainted it during the Great Upheaval. Honestly, with all their current problems, I don’t think Network 23 even knows he took it.”

“They’re still more concerned about ratings than anything else,” Edison remarked.

Theora nodded. “Murray and I will contact Martinez and fly out. We should be there in about half an hour.”

“Great! I’ll see you then!” Edison disconnected the call.

*****

“Supper’s ready!” Mrs. Morven called out as she carried the tray with the meat of the main course into the small dining room. “Mr. Carter, you sit next to Bryce.”

“Okay,” Edison took the offered seat. “Theora said she and Murray will be here in half an hour.” He told Bryce.

Bryce nodded as his brother and father joined them.

Being of a mildly religious background, Mrs. Morven said a quick grace, inserting a part about God talking sense into Bryce about the whole vigilante business, something she’d been doing regularly for the past few week. When she was done, she looked up at the others. 

“Let’s eat,” she said.

It was a moderately sized supper. Pot roast with carrots, potatoes and onions with a side salad and dinner rolls.”

“You’re the genius in the family,” Dan said to Bryce. “Are they still dinner rolls if they’re served at supper?”

“Dear brother of mine,” Bryce said, in an exaggerated mimicry of poshness, “there are some mysteries in this universe that even I cannot solve.”

Dan and Bryce laughed.

“Maybe you could get your point across as a stand-up comic?” Mrs. Morven suggested to Bryce as she cut into her piece of roast.

“That wouldn’t get the bad guys off the streets,” Bryce replied, taking a bite of salad.

Edison ate a few bites. “A lot of the bad guys are much more dangerous than you think.”

“He’s right,” his mother added while his father nodded.

“Buzzardo does a good job of protecting me,” Bryce told them.

“Buzzardo, as you call that thing, is your lifeline,” Mrs. Morven exclaimed fearfully. “If it gets damaged, you’ll die!”

“Lancer’s fortified Buzzardo so much it could survive a tank blast with barely more than a dent.” Bryce assured her. “Nobody’s going to destroy it.”

“Did you do your homework?” Mr. Morven asked him.

Bryce nodded, having just taken a bite of roast. When he was finished with it, he turned to Edison. “So…” he began.

“Save it for when Theora and Murray get here,” Edison suggested.

Bryce fell silent and went back to enjoying his supper.

*****

“So,” Martinez said to Theora and Murray as he piloted the former Network 23 helicopter a quarter mile or so above the M4, “sounds like Edison’s managed to locate Bryce at last.”

“Actually, Bryce was the one who made contact,” Theora replied.

“You still haven’t told me why,” Murray complained.

“I don’t know myself,” Theora confessed. “All I know is that Edison said Bryce requested our presence as well.”

***** 

“What did you make for dessert?” Dan asked.

“I bought crunch fries,” Mrs. Morven replied. “I’ve been letting them chill so they’ll be properly greasy.”

“Mom!” Bryce exclaimed in mock horror.

“Actually, I made homemade American-style chocolate pudding,” Mrs. Morven told them.

“Really?” Dan asked.

“With the skin?” Bryce inquired.

“With the skin,” Mrs. Morven told him.

“Yes!” Bryce gave a triumphant whisper. He turned to Edison. “It’s not real American-style pudding without the skin.” he imparted as if this were one of the great truths of the universe.

“You know I love your foreign desserts,” Mr. Morven told his wife.  
They quietly finished their supper. When it was done, Mrs. Morven spoke. “Dan, you and Bryce clean up the dishes.”

“Mom!” Bryce whined.

“I’ll let you know when your friends arrive,” Mrs. Morven promised. “Help your brother load the dishwasher in the…”

The doorbell rang. Dan and Bryce both rushing to get it.

“Hello, Bryce,” Murray and Theora each said.

“Nice to see you again,” Bryce told them. “You remember my brother Dan. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” Murray said, hoping that Bryce would keep the conversation at a level that he could understand.

“Are you three going to chat on the doorstep or come inside?” Dan asked, rolling his eyes.

Bryce led Theora and Murray into the house. 

Dan headed back into the kitchen while the others went into the living room.

“So, Bryce,” Theora asked. “What have you been up to?”

Bryce got to the point.

“I want to take out Breughal,” he told her and Murray. “He’s a danger to this city and he must be dealt with in the most expedient way possible.”

“Assassination,” Murray realized. “You’re talking about killing him.” 

“Do you really want that on your conscience, Bryce?” Theora asked, concernedly.

“My blipverts killed at least three people,” Bryce reminded her. 

“Accidentally,” Murray pointed out. “What you’re talking about now is practically murder.”

“Whether you accept it or not,” Bryce pointed out, “the war between the Networks and the people is still going on. I’m simply preparing a strike against an enemy target. The same as I’ve been doing since a week or so before I turned seventeen.”

“Bryce…” his mother began, trailing off. She knew her arguments were pointless.

Bryce smiled at her. “It’ll be okay.” He turned to Murray. “I already have my technical team assembled,” he explained. “What I need now is a strike team.”

“So, if we say “no’ you’ll give up on this ridiculous idea?” Murray asked hopefully.

Bryce’s eyes darkened in smoldering anger.

“Never say ‘ridiculous” to a vigilante,” he warned.

“Why don’t we continue this discussion over dessert?” Mrs. Morven suggested as she stood up and headed into the kitchen.

Bryce and Dan headed into the dining room with the others following.

“You know,” Dan told Bryce as everyone ate dessert. “As long as you’re going to play hero, you might as well use a superhero name.”

“How about Birdman?” Edison suggested. “It fits with the whole bird theme you’ve got going.”

“One artificial bird is not a theme,” Bryce pointed out. “Anyhow, I think Cyberhawk sounds like a better idea.”

“Actually that does sound good,” Theora told him.

“Don’t encourage him!” Mrs. Morven exclaimed in horror.

“Are you going to have a costume?” Dan asked.

Bryce considered. “I suppose a body suit would be a good idea. Something bulletproof perhaps? I’ll have to leave my head unencumbered, though. Anything more than a motorcycle helmet might interfere with Buzzardo or my artificial eye.”

“Maybe Winnie could design it,” Theora offered. “She’s a pretty decent artist.”

“That sounds good,” Edison agreed. “How about it, Bryce?”

“Sure,” Bryce agreed.

“My little brother’s going to be a superhero,” Dan said, proudly.

“I really wish you wouldn’t encourage him,” Mrs. Morven repeated in a low groan.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 08: Cyberhawk

Cyberhawk rode his recently detailed Busa down the M4. His long electric blue cloak fluttered behind him in the wind, secured by a broach of blue amber. He appeared to be dressed in a suit that was a slightly lighter shade of electric blue. His motorcycle helmet had been detailed with an intricate silver microchip design.

Buzzardo sat on his shoulder at first. Then, with a mental signal from Byce, the electronic bird took off, circling its master twice before flying forth to scout the route ahead.

“I’ve spotted Breughal,” Cyberhawk told his contacts over their links. “In pursuit now.”

He sped up, weaving through the traffic to reach his enemy.

Breughal noticed and picked up speed, causing several cars to veer off the road to make room.

Cyberhawk pulled to stop alongside the car that seemed to suffer the worst damage. The part of him that was Bryce wanted to keep pursuing Breughal. But as Cyberhawk he had sworn himself to the superheroes code. That meant that his first mission was to help people in trouble.

“Keep an eye on Breughal,” he told his contacts as he summoned Buzzardo back to his shoulder. He prayed the door of the car was not too damaged to open. He didn’t have super-strength after all.

Reaching the damaged car, he quickly inventoried the situation. The front end of the car had been smashed in by the impact with the guard rail. It was clear that the driver had been killed instantly. The passenger beside him, most likely his wife, was unconscious and badly hurt.

The boy in the back, held against his seat by his seatbelt, looked at Cyberhawk in awe. Clearly he was too traumatized to realize he was on his way to becoming an orphan.

Cyberhawk opened a cybertelepathic link to the city medical center, requesting an ambulance and sending the location of the car. 

“Hey, mister,” the boy asked. “Are you Batman? I heard about Batman once. My dad said he drove a really cool motorcycle and had a really long cape.”

Cyberhawk crouched down in front of the kid.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked

“Billy,” the boy told him.  
“Well, Billy,” Cyberhawk said, realizing it would help the child cope until the ambulance came, “Batman uses a car called the Batmobile, although it’s true that it’s really cool.”

The boy nodded in understanding. 

“Two,” Cyberhawk added, Batman’s cape isn’t anywhere near as long as this one. It’s more like this length.”

The boy watched in awe as Cyberhawk’s cloak became shorter until it stopped just below his waist. “Neat!” he said.

Cyberhawk wondered if it was healthy for a boy whose father was dead and whose mother was dying to be saying things like “neat”. 

“And finally,” he said. “You don’t drive a motorcycle. You ride it.”

He looked around as he saw the ambulance pull up, and slipped around the car until it hid him from their view.

“I just met a superhero,” the boy told the paramedics as they split up to examine each of the car’s occupants.

“I see,” the paramedic who went to take care of him said, not believing him, but willing to play along to make the kid feel better. 

None of them saw Cyberhawk climb back onto his Busa and drive off.

Billy watched the bike and rider until they were too far away. Tears fell down his face, reality sinking in as they put his father on a stretcher and covered her. He knew from TV that it meant his daddy was dead. They didn’t cover his mommy, so that meant she might be okay. 

As he was placed in an ambulance, he closed his eyes, a tiny light of hope in his distraught mind.

“At least superheroes are real.”


End file.
